Born to Fly
by me and Mr. Jones
Summary: Kurt thinks that maybe Pavarotti isn't the only one in a cage. This is a one-shot, lite Klaine. Read and Review Please!


_Ok this was just a random thing I wrote when I was bored one day. Hope you like it __ I don't own anyone, they are all Ryan's who I shall start a shrine to. Please review!_

Kurt watched as Pavarotti flew weakly around his room. His wings weren't very strong, Kurt assumed that was from either that the wings were clipped or that the poor bird had been in his cage so long he had forgotten how to fly. He wasn't sure how the Warblers would feel about him letting Pavarotti fly around, even if he couldn't get very far and it was only in his room. From what he had seen of this school, those boys like being kept in a cage. Kurt sighed, a cage was safe, it was true, no one to kick you or shove you or threatened your life. But if you stayed in a cage, you never soared, you never fell and got hurt either, but flying, especially when you had others flying around you, was magical.

Everyday Kurt let the canary out of the cage, and everyday it seemed that the bird got stronger, he was flying further and higher. And his songs were getting happier and louder. One day he asked Blaine if Pavarotti's wings were clipped,

"No, we just got him when he was a baby, so he never really learned how to fly." Kurt's heart clenched at these words, he wasn't sure that it was a bad clench or a good one, but maybe just maybe Pavarotti could fly one day, really fly.

Kurt had been there 3 weeks and he quickly realized that, he was in a cage, and his wings were getting weaker, and his song less jubilant. And that wasn't ok with him, he'd learned to fly, he'd ascended on stage, sometimes alone and sometimes with other brightly colored birds. But the boys at Dalton weren't brightly colored, they were brown and black and gray, no rooms for oranges, and reds, and blues, and greens, just black and brown and gray.

Pavarotti whistled joyfully while perched calmly on Kurt's finger, the soprano grinned at the bird who nipped his finger lovingly back, before taking off and flying several laps around his room before coming back to Kurt, landing gracefully on his bed post.

_Green finch and linnet bird,  
Nightingale, blackbird,  
How is it you sing?_

Pavarotti tweeted sweetly, nearly in tune with his sitter, his chest stuck out as the two song birds did what they were born to do.

_How can you jubilate,  
Sitting in cages,  
Never taking wing?_

Kurt laughed as Pavarotti seemed to understand the lyrics and flew from the bedpost to Kurt's dresser.

_Outside the sky waits,  
Beckoning, beckoning,  
Just beyond the bars._

Kurt stared at the bright yellow bird, whose disposition had completely changed once he'd started to be let out of his cage. It was as though he realized for the first time, he was a bird, one that was meant to take to the skies and sing to his hearts content._  
How can you remain,  
Staring at the rain,  
Maddened by the stars?  
How is it you sing-_

A knock on the door interrupted their duet, silencing both of them instantly,

"One second," Kurt called, turning guiltily to the canary and putting him back in his cage, "I'll let you back out, I promise." He whispered softly to the bird that chirp contently, knowing that Kurt wouldn't lie to him. He opened the door to see Blaine, and both boys smiled, as they always did at the other's face.

"Hey, sorry I interrupted you, was he singing with you?" Blaine chuckled motioning to Pavarotti who hoped around his cage.

"Yeah, well, we were bored," Kurt covered, not mentioning that the bird had been fly_ing _around moments earlier. Blaine smiled warmly,

"Well I was just wondering if maybe you wanted to go for a walk with me?" Kurt grinned, never willing to miss an opportunity to be with Blaine.

"Sure, just let me grab my coat," Kurt said, turning back into the room, grabbing his coat and scarf, "See you later," he said to his feathered friend, smiling. It sounded strange but the bird reminded him of his friends at McKinley.

"It's good to see that you and Pavarotti have gotten along so well, when Jeff joined I swear that bird tried to kill him on several different occasions." Blaine reported, Kurt smirked,

"He doesn't like blondes." Blaine looked at him confused and surprised, "I was skypeing with Quinn and he wouldn't stop screaming, I thought it was just because he didn't know her, but when I was talking to Mercedes, he sang and chirped. So I test with Sam, he has blonde hair too and sure enough he went nuts," Kurt laughed. Blaine shook his head,

"That makes a lot of sense, we thought Jeff had done something to him. Though I have to admit, Pavarotti is much more vocal than he used to be, even when he was molting, he's very happy with you, that's why I'm not looking forward to taking him." Kurt stopped short,

"What? Why are you taking him," Kurt's heart beat quickened at the thought that someone had somehow found out that he'd been letting Pavarotti fly.

"There's a new kid joining the Warblers tomorrow, he's going to watch him." Kurt deflated, at least it wasn't his fault, but then he quickly remembered what that meant, Pavarotti would be refined to a cage full time again, and Kurt knew that after over a month of freedom, that it would absolutely kill the carnary. Probably literally, and Kurt couldn't let that happen.

"Aww, I'm going to miss him, but I get it." Kurt lied, "Are you taking him tonight?" Kurt hoped the answer was no, then he could release him in the morning before anyone else was up.

"No, I'll take him in the morning, you two have bonded." Blaine replied sweetly and Kurt almost hated going behind his back, but that bird was meant to fly and so was he, but that was another issue entirely.

Back at Kurt's room, a couple hours later, Pavarotti tweeted, slightly annoyed at still being in his cage despite Kurt's presence in the room.

"I'm sorry, handsome," Kurt muttered as he opened the cage and instantly the bird vaulted from the cage and onto the ceiling fan. "Don't be like that, I just wanted to make sure Blaine wasn't coming back." Kurt promised, "I'm setting you free tomorrow, if that makes you feel better." Clearly it did, and Pavarotti flew back down to the bedpost, singing happily, Kurt chuckled at his own ridiculousness of imaging that the bird actually understood him. "And you better careful, if I release you and lose any chance of Blaine becoming more than a friend and you get eaten by a hawk, I'll be pissed." Kurt teased, but he smiled, sighing, "I guess it won't matter though, I'm following you, as soon as I can I'm going back to McKinley." Pavarotti whistled and Kurt continued, "I'm safe here, but we aren't meant to stay safely cooped up behind walls, or in cages," Kurt bumped Pavarotti's cage." And besides, at least at McKinley I could be myself, I miss my clothes and my songs, and most of all, my friends. Everyone is nice to me here, because they have to be, there, if someone is my friend it's because they want to be." Kurt smiled, feeling better and better about his decision. "Karofsky is going to be a nightmare, but I'll have my friends to help pick up the pieces." Pavarotti suddenly began flying around the room so fast that Kurt could hardly see him, "Show off," he chuckled.

At 4 am the next morning his alarm went off, he sat straight up and looked over at the bird cage that contained a still sleeping canary. He quickly got dressed and pulled on a heavy coat and picked up the cage.

"Crap, you better not freeze to death," Kurt muttered to the bird who had since began to sing. "Shhh, unless you want to get caught and locked up forever." Pavarotti didn't stop so Kurt rushed outside as fast as he could, stopping once he was there. "Ok, this is it. Make sure you fly South and stay safe. And maybe come back some time," Kurt felt himself silly when tears filled his eyes. He cleared his throat and blinked the blurriness away, "I'll miss our duets," Kurt whispered before opening the cage. Pavarotti stopped at the door, looking around hesitantly before bursting into flight. Kurt smiled widely as the bird began to sing so loudly and gleefully that Kurt suspected it was going to wake the rest of the school, but it was too late and the bird soon vanished into the waning dark. Kurt stared at the place that Pavarotti had last been in his sight for several seconds before a voice caused him to jump.

"I'm going to miss him," Blaine stated, joining Kurt. Kurt paused, not saying anything, studying Blaine for a reaction. "I took care of him too when I got here, I wanted to let him go too, but I didn't have the courage you do, I wanted to fit in, that was all that mattered to me and if that meant keeping him locked up, keeping myself locked up, that's what I was going to do." Kurt continued to watch Blaine for a sign of anger. "Have you told anyone you're leaving?" Kurt deflated, letting out a sigh of relief,

"No, how did you know." Blaine smirked,

"I came back to your room last night when I'd finally gotten the nerve up to kiss you, but I heard what you said to Pavarotti and didn't want to make you think I would stop you, so I left." Kurt hadn't heard anything past "kiss".

"You wanted to kiss me?" Blaine smiled,

"Still do," he admitted. That was all Kurt needed, he grabbed Blaine's waist and pulled him closer, Blaine looked pleasantly surprised by this action, but of course didn't fight it and they leaned in and pressed their lips together. Their lips danced and moved together perfectly as though they were made for each other, both boys smiled into the kiss, which quickly warmed them despite the cool air. When they separated Kurt sighed,

"That should have been my first kiss." Blaine smirked,

"It was, it was the first one that mattered." Kurt grinned widely and kissed him again, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry," Blaine murmured into Kurt's shoulder. Kurt pulled away looking at the older boy, "I tried to change you, to make you more like us, but the best thing about you, is that you aren't like anyone." Kurt giggled happily and Blaine decided it was his new favorite sound and he was going to make it his mission to pull that sound out of Kurt as often as possible.

"Let's go inside, it's cold out here," Kurt said, holding out his hand. Blaine gladly accepted it, "Will everyone be mad at me for letting Pavarotti go?"

"Yep," Blaine replied, smirking when Kurt flinched slightly. "But don't worry, I won't let the big mean androids get you," Kurt laughed again and Blaine felt as though everything in his life was perfect.

"How do I know that you aren't working with them, and you plan on brain washing me and keeping me locked in your closet?" Kurt asked, releasing Blaine's hand only to link their arms together instead.

"Oooh that's not a bad idea, it's not a big closet, but you're small, you'll fit," Blaine pretended to work it out, earning a swat on his arm, but Kurt was beaming. He had a boyfriend, Pavarotti was free and soon he would be back with his friends at McKinley, flying as he'd been born to do. The one downside was, leaving Dalton, meant leaving Blaine,

"You should come with me." The words were out of Kurt's mouth before he could stop them, Blaine looked at him surprised, and Kurt blushed. Blaine paused, stopping their steps and considered it. His friends were here, his safe world was here, he'd never been as brave as Kurt, but maybe, with this man by his side, he too could remember how to soar.

_Hope you liked it! Please review it's just right here_

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